Just a Big Ol' Pile of 'What Ifs'
by Aimless Wonder
Summary: Pretty self-explanatory. Bunch of oneshot drafts with Harry. Mostly SLASH, but not all.


**Crossover: **Harry Potter/Twilight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

**Warning(s):** Crappy-written, twisted, dark humour. Unbeta'ed

**Notes:**

_Italics_ - _Thoughts/visions/Titles_

_/Italics/_ - _Flashbacks_

* * *

**When I first read/watched the books and movies, I wasn't sure what accent to give Alice, but from what I gathered from the background info, she probably spoke like a Southern Bell (is that right?), with a southern accent, since she lived in_ Biloxi_. So, I based the accent on what I heard in _Disney's The Princess and the Frog_ (New Orleans/ Yat dialect, but same time period) and _The Help_ (took place in 1960's _Mississippi_), and I _know _that still got it wrong, so apologies for that.**

**Like I stated, this is just a loose draft, so there's bound to be mistakes since I've only run through this about four times. It's been sitting in my computer for a while.**

**But if this inspires anyone to write something, go for it!**

**A belated Happy New Year to everyone reading!**

**Aimless**

* * *

"Please! Y'all don't understand!"

Her whispered words were frantic as she clutched at the bars that separated her from the guard. "Y'all have to believe me! _Please!_"

But all she got as an answer was a grimace of disgust before the guard turned and walked away, muttering under his breath.

Slumping her head against the bars, she could only watch as he disappeared around the corner, mostly likely towards the staff lounge. Fighting back tears she took a deep breath before peeking hesitantly over her shoulder at the room at large.

Mary Alice Brandon, or otherwise, Alice, as known by some, had been kept in the _Wayne County Mental Asylum_ for almost two days, ever since _Sheriff_ Hendricks had dropped her off after her father had paid him off. She hadn't made it easy on him though, and Hendricks had driven away in his patrol wagon with several scratches on his fat and ugly face.

Slowly she made her way across the room– making a point hug the walls– towards the tables that had been set up near the walls.

All were occupied, but the one at the far corner was the only one that had a sole occupant, so she quickly made her way towards it; she jumped slightly when one woman starting slamming her fist on top of the jigsaw puzzle she had been trying to solve before throwing the whole thing across the room with a screech. One of the two staff guards immediately came to scold her.

Finally reaching her destination, she slowly pulled out a chair and took a seat. Mindful to keep her eyes off the other occupant, she scanned the table, observing the various pieces of paper that littered the table.

They were all sketches, every single one of them, and from what she could see, they weren't anything to marvel at.

Despite there having not been any prior show of an artistic streak in her family, Alice had known from the very young age that she had been born to be an artist. It was something that even her parents and sister had praised her for, though that had been before this whole fiasco with her mother's murder had started and her father had shipped her off to this darksome, and noisome place.

Crossing her arms over the heinous excuse of a shirt, Alice slumped back in her chair as she hung her head, and slowly took her first real look at the the table's other occupant. He wasn't paying attention to her, but more to the sketch book he had in front of him as he moved his pencil over the paper.

Like her, he was fair skinned (that wasn't really a good description since it could account for nearly two thirds of the room); his hair colour was also pitch black and straight, but fell so that the ends brushed over the frames of his moon shaped glasses. But what made her frown slightly was the condition he was in.

Alice could make out the subtle hint of muscle on his arms; something which was more obvious in the broadness of his shoulders– and from what little she could make out from his face, his cheeks weren't sunken in like everyone else in the room, barring the guards and herself.

To put it simply, the male in front of her was... well, for lack of a better word: healthy. Alice knew that he had to have been living here for a long space of time since the identification tag around his wrist looked as if it had seen better days, unlike her own, which was brand new.

"You realise–"

Her head snapped up as the smooth baritone permeated her mental deduction.

"–that if you do want to survive in here, you will have to learn to behave."

It took several seconds for her brain to catch up with her. When it did, Alice could not stop the choked gasp that escaped her as she registered both the tone, and manner in the other had spoken. It was a complete contrast to way in which he held himself. While his mannerisms and movements would have been hinted as odd or skittish, his speech had clearly been that of a _sane_ individual. And not just _any_ sane individual, but someone of high social standing. Nothing at all like the way the boys in her neighbour spoke. And definitely not with _that_ accent.

"What... How...?" She gaped at him.

"Close your mouth, and lower you head," ordered the male, though he didn't look up at her.

Still too stunned to argue, Alice couldn't help but obey, and her jaw snapped up into place. She hung her head down, keeping her eyes on many of the doodles on the table.

Things were silent once again, except for the sound of lead moving across paper and of the many happenings that were occurring around them.

"W–Who are you?" She dipped her head forward as she asked and tried to take another look at him. "My... my name's Mary... but people call me Alice."

There was a pause before she heard him continue to sketch and her gaze returned to the table.

"You made quite the spectacle of yourself yesterday when you arrived, Alice."

Alice blinked down at the drawing of a stick figure, her face flushing in embarrassment at the clear mockery in his voice. Her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

Yesterday had not been one of her best days. She had been silent throughout the entire trip from Biloxi to Wayne County, but when Hendricks had pulled up at the institute, all the hysteria that had been building up inside her had released itself and she had tried to make a run for it, despite the fact that none of the scenarios she had foreseen would have guaranteed her freedom; the nurse and the two guards waiting for them had made sure of that.

"You saw that, did you?" she said, and looked up when he made a sound in agreement.

"We were returning to our rooms when you were brought in– kicking and screaming as you were. I thought the managerial staff had finally caught themselves a real live banshee."

Pursing her lips, Alice discreetly glanced around to see if any of the staff were paying them any attention. Seeing that none of them were, she turned her eyes back to him.

"What 'bout you?" She felt annoyance when he didn't even look at her. "You ain't sound like you a crazy person."

"Neither do you– not counting yesterday, of course– and yet, here _you_ are." There was a hint of a smile on his lips as he spoke. "So what are you doing here?"

Inwardly, Alice sighed. The conversation was getting her no where. She couldn't even see what he was going to say because he _didn't want_ to say anything.

And so, thinking that he might actually be insane, Alice decided to indulge him with her story; from when she had been a little girl of only four years when she had showed the first signs of clairvoyance; how people treated her as she grew; how she foresaw her mother's impending death; how she tried to warn her. She told him everything right up to her arrival at the asylum, and held nothing back. And all the while, her companion didn't speak.

He just stared down at his sketch pad. His hand moving almost lazily across the page.

"That's my life," she said, coming to the end of her tale. "After what he'd done to my mama, I wouldn't put it past my daddy if he claimed that I was dead, too."

Again silence was her only response and Alice hung her head again.

_Honestly... why'd I even bother telling him... he probably wasn't listening anyway..._

Closing her eyes, leaned forward to rest her head against the table.

… _her vision was filled with emerald... "My name is Harry."..._

"My name is Harry."

Doe like eyes widened, staring down at the table again in amazement before lifting them up, locking them with the same emerald colour she had just envisioned. Shocked at his forthcoming, but nonetheless happy for it, she started to smile, and did not see what he would say next.

"I am a wizard."

The smile froze midway on her face as her eyes popped so large that it was a miracle they didn't fall out of there sockets.

_Good Lord... this fella's definitely one slice short of a loaf!_

"I was considered the saviour of my world until they branded me the next _Dark Lord_," he continued, as if not noticing her discomposure. "They then stripped me of both my wand and my magic, and then left me in this god forsaken place to rot."

"W–what?" Alice squeaked as she skittered away from him, scrapping her chair along the concrete floor.

At her exclamation, he laughed, sounding utterly mad as he suddenly stood from his chair, and before she could do anything, he had already crossed the distance around the table to stand right in front of her.

"!"

"Hey!" called a voice from the side– one of the guards.

He raised his hand, and Alice closed her eyes in fear as he lowered it to deliver a blow. Instead she felt it hit the back of her chair right next to her head. Peeking one eye open, she found herself staring at the same emerald-coloured eyes before she took a look to her right; to the fisted scrap of paper next to her head.

"That'll be enough, Harrison!" said the the guard as he reached them. "You know the rules. Leave her be."

Chucking the piece of paper in her lap, Harry immediately slouched away from her and the guard, humming to himself, his fingers twitching ever so slightly. The bell rang then, signalling the time for them to return to their rooms.

"Farewell, little Alice," said Harry, his voice almost shrill as he finally slumped away, almost as though he were a zombie.

Watching as he left, still a bit shocked, Alice gave a start when the guard told her to get a move on. Following after the other residents, she quietly walked down the corridor until she reached her room. It wasn't until she sat down on her bed that Alice noticed that she was holding the paper that Harry had given her. Unfolding it, she gasped as she stared down at the picture.

It was her. And it wasn't some lousy sketch either.

It showed her sitting in her chair across from Harry, her arms wrapped around herself. He'd even drawn her expression of sorrow to a 'T'.

Alice couldn't help but smile. For the first time in a long time, it looked as if she had a friend.

-x-x-x-

"Alright then," Alice said as she sat down at her usual table. "How is it that you're still here?"

She knew her question caught him off guard cause he immediately stiffened.

After her conversation with Harry, Alice had slowly started perfecting her persona of what, in her opinion, passed as mentally insane. Now, almost a month later, she was dancing around the asylum, smiling and humming to anyone and everyone who bothered to notice her. To her amazement, the staff actually left her alone, as long as what she was doing didn't affect the other 'patients'.

"I do not know what you mean," he replied after a while, still continuing to doodle on his pad.

Alice rolled her eyes discreetly at him as she began to pick at the pieces of the abandoned jigsaw puzzle in front of her, but continued to whisper to him. "Come on, now. Don't think that I ain't noticed; everyone here has been under your spell from the very beginning. Yesterday, when Vincent tried to take away your sketch pad, you saw straight into his eyes and told him to leave you alone, and he's done so ever since. Just like that. And I know that's how you've been getting three, full meals a day. Why else would you look so healthy?"

She looked up at him now. "You said they took away your magic, but I'll bet that you've still been able to use it, or what's left of it anyway. So why don't you use it and get yourself out of here?"

He was silent as she talked, his pencil having stopped moving.

"You have been every observant," he said.

Alice looked back down at the puzzle board, deliberately placing the pieces in the wrong places. "What else would you expect from a sane person?"

He sighed and she heard him resume his sketching. "... There is another... that works here."

She frowned as she lifted the board and flipped it over; the pieces all fell back down onto the table. "What do you mean? One of the workers? He a wizard, too?"

"Not a wizard," he replied, a hint of fear in his voice. "Something much worse."

Swallowing, she took another round at resembling the pieces. "What?"

"An immortal," he whispered. "_Vampire_."

Her head snapped up to him in shock. "A–a–a vam–"

"The first time I tried to escape," he interrupted, "he snapped my wrist."

Alice gaped at him. She knew which injury he was talking about 'cause he'd shown it to her when she had noticed it about a week ago.

"He is the reason I was sent here in the first place," Harry said bitterly, rubbing his wrist through his garment. "They may have hoped that he would have ended my existence. He is the one responsible for the disappearances."

Her eyes widened at that. Just last week, Gladys, one of older residents, had been found dead. 'Hyperanaemia' she'd heard the staff whisper.

"He comes about twice every week," he continued. "He will most likely pay you a visit, too, as I am sure that he has already heard _your_ tale."

"What?" She felt her face pale even further.

"You need not be so anxious, Alice," he reassured her, ignoring her protest. "It would look overly-curious if you were to suddenly be proved dead; you are one of the healthy among us, and he is not about to hazard losing his banquet. He is most likely curious as to who you are and what it is you are capable of."

Alice had nothing to say to that, but that didn't take away the panic she felt.

They stayed like that for the rest of the day before the bell rang again, signalling their return to their rooms.

-x-x-x-

"So you are the new addition."

The voice was like caramel– smooth and thick– as it washed over her.

Alice had been fast asleep when the vision had come to her. It was what had jerked her awake. She'd already seen him coming, but it had not prepared her for this.

Standing in front of her was one of the most beautiful creatures she she had ever seen in her life. His face was chalky pale, as if it were carved from stone. But what got her the most were his eyes. They were dark red, the colour of blood.

"I have heard few interesting things about you, Miss Brandon," said the being as he took a step towards her, and Alice skittered back across the bed until she was huddled into the corner of the room.

"P–please, do not kill me," she whispered, terrified beyond her mind.

"Kill you?" The vampire gave a pitying scoff as he stopped his approach. "Do not worry your little head, Miss Brandon. I did not come here to take your life."

Alice shivered at the tone as she swallowed the bile in her throat. "Then what do you want?"

"To talk," the vampire said simply before he gave a bow; he had tucked one hand behind his back and was holding out the other towards her, palm up, in a sign of greeting. "Gregory Bunddock."

Alice looked at him as if he were demented, but when he continued to stand frozen, she decided to oblige him; the lack of movement on his part had started to freak her out. Alice scooted forward hesitantly before she raised a hand and held it out shakily towards him. As their fingers were about to touch, she darted her eyes up to observe, but he was still held the same posture, not having moved an inch– like that of a statue. Sighing, she put her hand in his.

Cold, hard digits closed themselves around her hand and lifted it up as he brought even colder lips down to kiss the top of her hand; she jerked at the cold, dry compress.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mary," he said after he retracted his lips, but did not let go of her hand.

_/He handed her a small table side clock./_

"You claim to possess a very interesting gift," said Gregory as he crouched down in front of her. "You see, the staffroom has always been a haven for such petty gossip; a lot of the things they say about the tenants can be quite dreadful, though I would have to agree with their comments. The people here were nothing more than trash that their families could not care to look after."

There are two kinds of people that get sent here, Mary. The kind that deserve to live in this hell-hole, and the ones that don't. Simon in room fifteen, down the hall," he said. "He is of the former. After what he did to little his sister, he deserves to thrown into this place. He bashed her over the head with a rock. She was only nine years old."

Then there's Amy in twenty-nine. She stabbed her parents to death as they slept before setting the house afire. The neighbours found her humming to herself in the sandbox out in the backyard, covered in their blood."

Her eyes were wide in horror as she listened to him.

"But then there was Gladys. Dear, _sweet_, old Gladys." Gregory sighed to himself as he looked off to the side, a smile twisting his ruby red lips.

"What... what she do?" Alice asked, voice trembling.

She gave a start when she found him looking straight at her, as she hadn't even seen his head move; it had been turned, and then when she had blinked, Gregory's head was suddenly facing her.

"Gladys did nothing wrong," Gregory said. "She didn't deserve to be put her here."

"But you killed her," whispered Alice as she tugged on her hand, and to her relief, he released it. "_Why?_"

"To set her free."

She stared at him, speechless.

"What did you expect?" he questioned. "That I would have just let her go? What would that have accomplished, Mary? Galdys did not have the mental capacity to take care of herself. She would have eventually ended up back in a place like this, one way or another."

Alice gave him a dark look. "You don't know that."

"And you do?"

She winced at the innocent look on his face before turning away from him. Bringing a hand up, she wiped at the tears that had trickled down over her cheeks.

"Did you know her fate, Mary?" he asked softly from beside her.

"_No_," she ground out stubbornly.

"No?" She heard him give a soft chuckle. "And why not?"

She didn't answer him. They sat there for who knows how long before he finally spoke.

"I brought you something, today," he said. "Can you take a guess as to what–"

"A clock," Alice said, interrupting him. "You brought me, a clock."

Silence greeted her statement before she felt the mattress shift as he placed something down between them. She looked down slightly at the bed to see the clock she had seen in her vision.

"Impressive."

She didn't look at him, just continued to stare down at the clock.

"I will return tomorrow." Gregory got up from his seat. "Lovely meeting you, Mary."

And so began their little game.

-x-x-x-

"What have I brought?"

Alice rolled her eyes for the up tenth time. Two months had passed since Gregory's first visit and the game had repeated itself every single night. Even Harry, despite his earlier reassurance, had shown relief when she had told him how Gregory had seemed taken a liking to her; he'd admitted to being worried for her well being when Gregory finally made to pay her a visit.

By now, her room was covered in little trinkets. He hadn't brought large things since the staff did checks of the rooms to ensure that their residents didn't have anything that would have deemed hazardous to themselves or to the staff. Most of the time, he just bought food, but he did bring other things; a hand woven bracelet; a hair brush, and mirror; sketch pads and a box with charcoal sticks.

The most recent of them had been among her favourites so far, for she'd discovered her own talent for art. The tall walls of her chimney like room were covered from the bottom up in paper, each and every one depicting either the weather, a scene from her memory, or a sketch of clothing that she had imagined for herself.

"An apple," she said from her position on the bed, not looking in his direction, but raising a hand to catch said item from the air as it was thrown to her. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Gregory replied, chuckling as he slowly walked along the far wall before stopping and reaching up and running his fingers over the portion of the wall in front or him. "This is new."

Taking a bit of her apple she slide of the bed and stepped up behind him and looked around his shoulder to see which picture he was referring to. It was one of her being strapped to a table while Dr. Hummel, the resident psychiatrist, appeared holding prongs to her head.

"Electroshock," Gregory told her.

"Yes," Alice said, wincing. "I think it'll happen tomorrow... That's why I wanted to speak with you. Harry said he can make it so that Hummel wouldn't be able touch me, but he's to go in before I do."

Gregory turned his head and gave her a curious look. "You have grown attached to the wizard."

"He's my best friend," she whispered, staring down at the ground, "and I'm all that he's got, too."

"You have me."

Alice didn't say anything, but a small smile twisted her lips before she wrapped her arms around his bicep and leaned her head against it; he was too tall for her to put her head on his shoulder.

"I will see to it that Harry visits Hummel before you do," Gregory said before he ripped her latest sketch of the wall and crumbled it in his fist. "I promise: I will do my best to protect the two of you."

In answer, she tightened her hold around his concrete skin, burying her smile in his arm. She had left it unsaid, but Alice had found a great friend in Gregory.

Unfortunately, as she would soon find out, the vampire's presence in her life would soon come to an end. For it would be four days later that James would stumble across her scent– three counties away– in her former home town of _Biloxi_, _Mississippi_.

-x-x-x-

"You are certain?"

She nodded up at him from her position on the bed. "I had the vision 'bout an hour ago; it's what woke me. He's coming to kill me."

Gregory was in a state of panic, something that he had never experienced as an immortal and couldn't even remember as a human.

"I can take you away– hide you," he insisted, but Alice only shook her head.

"He'll catch us. He wants my blood. He... I think he's a tracker or something."

Gregory felt his venom run cold (colder than usual) as he processed the true meaning behind her words.

_A tracker_.

He had spent more than enough time as an immortal to know, that even among vampires, there were fundamental differences. Differences which made the individual either the predator, or the prey. He had seldom in his life come across the former– not that he had been actively looking in the first place– but those that he _had_ met, had done enough to stamp out the fact that he fell sorely into the latter.

He had heard the stories. Tales from the passing nomad who would speak of the powers that they had witnessed on their travels; how a vampire could render the senses useless as they tore the body and burnt the pieces; how they caused pain in the body; how they could track anyone without fault.

_I think he's a tracker or something._

His hands tightened.

Then there was only one option left.

"And if I were to change you?" he asked, focusing on her again.

Here, he watched as her posture stiffened, her eyes gazing over as she was pulled into another vision. The seconds ticked by as he waited for her answer.

"It–" She wrung her hands together "– It'll be close, but it might work."

He did not allow her more time to ponder.

Moving forward at a speed to face for her to notice, Gregory brought his hand up and slid it around her neck as his other came around her back, pulling her close to him. He used his fingers to turn her head to the side as his mouth descended to her neck, lips pulled back and teeth bared.

He bit down.

Before she could even make a sound, he had placed a hand gently over her mouth as he lowered her to the bed. A few seconds later, he had ripped and bundled a piece of the bed sheets and replaced it with his hand, stuffing it carefully into her mouth to muffle her screams as the venom began to burn through her veins.

His head snapped up as the metal door to her suddenly swung open; he had not paid any attention to what had been going on outside since his entire concentration had been on resisting her blood.

"What have you done!?"

The question was hissed as Harry stood in the open doorway, staring at the scene they both made; Alice twitching on the bed with the gag in her mouth, his body crouched over her.

Gregory heard the human's heartbeat soar before he took a step forward into the room, but stopped, as if suddenly realising who he was up against.

"You promised!" exclaimed the former wizard, his fists trembling at his sides. "You promised that you would not harm her!"

Gregory could already see the tears that were threatening to spill pooling in his eyes behind his glasses.

"It was the only way."

Harry gave him a look in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"She is being hunted."

That seemed to get his attention.

"W–what?" Harry was now looking at him in confusion. "By who? Why?"

"She said he caught her scent in _Biloxi_," said Gregory as he looked down at the body twitching on the bed. "He is coming for her– for her blood. This was the only chance she had left at a life, but I do not want her to be alone."

He looked back at Harry now. "You can either stay here or stay with her, but your decision must be made now. I will not be around after tonight. This will be your last chance."

He watched as Harry slowly walked towards the bed, kneeling as he reached it and taking Alice's hand in both of his. She immediately gripped back tightly.

"He is that powerful?" asked Harry as he looked up at him.

Gregory did not answer with words, only nodded. It was only after three full seconds that Harry nodded back.

"Do it."

"The pain will be unbearable. Would you be able to hold yourself from screaming?" he asked.

Emerald green glared up at him. "I have been through much worse than this."

Gregory gave him a pitying smile. "No, you have not."

Like Alice, he did not give the other a chance at a response before flashing down and biting him on the neck. To his credit, Harry did not make that much of a sound; he only grunted in discomfort before his grip on Alice's hand loosened and he leaned forward into Gregory's embrace, body twitching ever so slightly.

In less than twenty seconds, Gregory had the both of them slung over each shoulder as he raced east across the land. Though he made sure that they would not hit anything along the way, he gave no heed to their comfort, for they would not notice it over the pain, and whatever minor injuries they received would be healed by the three days' end.

He ran for over an hour, crossing through Alabama and further until he reached _Sassafras Mountain_, which was located towards the north west of the state of _South Carolina_ in the _Blue Ridge Mountains_. It did not take him long to find a suitable place to hide them; he placed their bodies in one of the caves he found and barricaded the entrance with a large oak.

As he looked at the entrance, Gregory felt sorrow as he came to terms with his fate.

"Look after each other," he whispered.

Giving one last smile, he turned, and began the run back to Alabama, and towards his death.

-x-x-x-

"He's almost here."

Harry turned away from glancing out the window to look at Alice who sat on the stool next to him.

The diner was fairly busy this time of day, even though the weather would not be called ideal. The rain splattered against the large windows as the of clouds moved on eastward above the city of _Philadelphia_.

It was the year 1948, and Alice and he had been travelling the continent for almost fifty years. Their life as vampires had not been what Harry had thought it would be. Gregory had told the truth about the pain of the change; it had not been like anything he had ever encountered before. Before his transformation, the _Crusiatus _curse had been the curse that had always reinforced its position as the most painful experience he had ever had. Until the change.

The curse may have made him feel as if he were being stabbed over and over again, but the change had felt as if his entire body had been doused in flame with no end to it. He though it would never end. And when the pain had finally subsided, he had opened his eyes to be greeted by a sight he had never seen before.

Alice's face had never been more beautiful. Harry had been able to make out every single speck of dust in the air; every hair on her face; every particle of dirt on the ground. He had been able to hear past the confines of the cave they had found themselves in to the world outside; the wildlife; streams and rivers.

Together, they ventured out of the cave (removing the tree covering the entrance) and explored the forest they had found themselves in. Alice had stated that they hunt so they had quickly come across a heard of elk in one of the forest clearings. The taste of the blood had been enough to sate their thirsts but it had not been enough. They had returned to the cave, but continued to hunt whenever they needed to while never straying far. It had stayed that way for three months before Alice had deemed it time for them to move.

They had made their way east, towards Florida, where they kept themselves hidden. It was there that Harry found his restraint tested. He had come across a human hiking in the woods. It had been only a second before he had broken the mortals neck. It was only until he had registered the dead expression on his victims face that he had been able to rise above the blood–lust. The scent had burned itself into his noise the entire run back to Alice.

Alice had comforted him when that had happened as he had cried in her tiny arms.

From then on, they had started testing themselves, exposing themselves to the presence of humans. It had been hard, and there were times that a human had ended up being killed, but Harry took pride in the fact that he had only tasted human blood once. It seemed that after the initial exposure to it (his second victim), he had found it more easier to focus now that he knew what it tasted like. He had never bitten another human since. Alice too had had her troubles but she also came to learn to resist the pull. By their fourth year, both of them had less trouble controlling their urges and had maintained their diet of animal blood.

When their eyes had continued to remain golden, they had started to integrate themselves into human society. It had been hard– unbelievably hard–, but it had paid off.

And it was now that Alice had finally concluded that Jasper was ready to meet them.

Harry had heard so much about Jasper that he felt that he practically knew the ex–soldier already. Alice would go on, non–stop, about how amazing Jasper was and that Harry would love him. Harry himself had seen no logical reason to object. If Alice said it were true than he would love Jasper as if he were a brother.

Which was why they were currently seated in the diner. Jasper had finally decided to leave Charlotte and Peter.

Beside him, Alice straightened in her seat.

Slowly, Harry swung around on his stool so that he, too, was facing the door of the diner.

Nothing happened for the first few minutes, just the patrons busy minding their own business courtesy of Harry; he had made everyone in the diner ignore their presence. Then they watched as a figure finally appeared outside the diner before it began to make its way around to the door. There was a jingle as the door swung open permitting person through. No one paid any attention to him though.

Blond hair fell out from a hood. Their ends reached down just to level off at his collarbone. Harry immediately took note of his height; Jasper was taller than his own five-eleven, and though they were both lean, Jasper had more muscle mass than he did.

He watched as the eyes beneath the hood did a quick inventory of the diner before they finally settled on the two of them. Surprise flickered in those dark depths, but there was no wariness, and considering what Alice had already told him of Jasper's background, the blond vampire did not need to be. In a fair fight, he would probably take both of them on and win.

But this was not a fair fight, and the blond was not an enemy.

It was Alice that made the first move; she hopped of the stool and practically danced (Harry rolled his eyes at this) across the short distance of the tiled floor towards him.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said.

Harry watched as the blond starred down at Alice with what could only be described as awe on his previously stoic face, before he ducked his head down at her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he replied in a thick southern accent.

Harry watched as Alice held out her hand to him, and with no hesitation at all, Jasper took it in his larger one. The two shared another smile before his sister finally turned to walk back over to him, pulling Jasper along behind her.

"Jasper." The blond gave a start as Alice spoke his name lightly, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion. "This is my brother, Harry."

"Good to finally meet you in person, Mr. Whitlock," said Harry as he nodded his head in greeting. "Alice has told me so much about you. I swear, my ears were just about to fall off."

"Alice..."

The name rolled off the soldier's tongue like a caress, as if he were actually taking the time to memorise it.

"Mary Alice Brandon," reiterated Alice, wrapping her tiny arms around his larger one before leaning her head against it, "but Alice is fine."

"How do you know so much about me?" Jasper asked, looking down at her before his gaze shifted up to meet Harry's.

Harry shared a look with Alice before he rose from his seat to address the room at large.

"Attention, everyone," he announced.

Jasper stiffened as the chatter around the semi-crowded diner ceased and the patrons all began turning; he shifted his head cautiously from side to side before he whispered, "What are you doing?"

Ignoring the ex-soldier's discomposure, Harry spoke again, and couldn't help the slight smirk on his face as he attached his mind to every other one in the diner, excluding the two standing right in front of him. "If you do not work here: _leave, and continue on with your day_."

For a full second, the diner stayed silent, before the first scrapping of stool legs against tiled floors reached them, followed by the sounds of porcelain and cutlery clinking as people replaced them back down on the tables. As they all crowded out of the dinner– taking their coats with them–, Harry looked back at Jasper as the he was staring openly around him now, before Alice pulled him over to the newly vacated booth at the far end of the room.

Locking the door after the last customer, Harry flipped the sign so that it read 'CLOSED', and then turned the lights in the front part of the store off until only the light from the kitchen and outside lit the room.

Harry faced the counter, spotting the waitress, and the cook standing behind the window. "_Ignore __us_."

That said, he followed after Alice and Jasper.

"So," he said to Jasper after he'd taken his seat opposite the newly formed couple. "Where would you like us to begin?"

_**The End?...**_

-x-x-x-


End file.
